In Between Dreams
by get-the-salt
Summary: Sherlock walks in on something very unexpected. John solves his very personal problem. Everyone needs some assistance from time to time. Mature content. Johnlock.
1. Milk

John held the fridge door open and subconsciously clenched his free hand into a tight fist. So tight, that even his blunt nails were able to pinch at his skin.

"_Honestly_ Sherlock," John grumbled to himself "How do manage to use the last of it every single time!?" He was so desperate that he even moved the severed hand to check there wasn't some tiny carton he had missed. Resigning to the sad truth he trudged out of the kitchen and flopped down onto his favourite armchair. His thoughts lingering on the poor teabag sitting completely dry in his mug. It was almost as dramatic as Sherlock's entrances into their shared flat. 'I refuse to get the bloody milk this time' He nodded and huffed out a breath, reassuring himself that he could in fact do that.

_Why is the milk gone again? _

**JW**

_I required it._

**SH**

_For what!? You don't even take milk in your coffee!_

**JW**

_Tying up loose ends on the last case._

**SH**

John stared at his phone in disbelief. He had no idea how milk could of possibly had anything to do with their last case.

_The store is only a 5 minute walk_

**JW**

_Shouldn't take you long to get yourself there then._

**SH**

_SHERLOCK!_

**JW**

John waited 5 minutes before giving up on a reply from his ridiculous friend.

His _Friend_. The word sounded bitter in his mind and even worse when he said it out loud. He tried not to think of Sherlock as more than that. Denied those insistent folk, like Mrs Hudson who constantly referred to them as a _couple_. He supressed any feelings of that nature, thank you very much.

There are times however, John admits begrudgingly to himself that he feels **it**. When they're on a case with danger waiting at every turn. When they run through London streets, hearts pounding and breathless. It's not just a spark or a flutter in his stomach but like his whole body is alight. Burning for Sherlock. The man who saved his life, solves crimes and uses all the bloody milk.

Somewhere in between thinking about how much of a lazy sod his roommate is and how utterly attractive he is, John starts to palm his half hard cock. It's only half past 4 or there about which gives him roughly twenty minutes before Sherlock is due to arrive home. Risky but with his cock straining against his pants he can't help but take it. A small sigh escapes his lips as he wraps his calloused hand around himself. He can't help but imagine Sherlock's slender fingers instead of his own, pumping him till he begs for release.

Lost in said fantasy, John doesn't hear the taxi pulling up, the creak of the door opening or the footsteps climbing the stairs and approaching him. It isn't until that all too familiar baritone voice inquired from behind him, "You didn't buy any milk then?" that he stopped mid-stroke, red faced and wide eyed. John didn't move. He couldn't. In his defence Sherlock hadn't moved either. Once John's mind had realised that his hand was still wrapped around his cock he went to pull away, to button up his pants and to apologies profusely. This plan however, was completely forgotten when Sherlock told him "Don't stop," John was shocked by how rough Sherlock's voice had suddenly become "_Please". _

With shaky hands John took his hardened member and began to stroke himself again. The warmth coiled in his belly and he panted heavily. He was so close that all it took was Sherlock's voice growling "cum for me John." for him to lose control.

**Thank you for reading! I'm thinking of leaving it as a one shot but I will happily write some more if people are interested. Reviews are always appreciated and gives me motivation to write more and better ! (: **


	2. Problem Solving

It had been precisely a week since the '_milk incident_' and neither John nor Sherlock had mentioned it. The awkwardness that followed the incident fortunately, only lasted that night and the morning after til a case presented itself.

Although John hadn't talked about the incident, it certainly did not mean he hadn't thought about it. In fact, he found it was the only thing he could think of – not that he minded. John had almost fully accepted the fact that he was completely in love with his prick of a roommate. Though he had acknowledged it, he refused to do anything about it. No touching Sherlock and no touching himself. 'That,' thought John 'would make this too real'. The only problem he had with Sherlock being on his mind was that he seemed to have a perpetual hard on. He could manage hiding it at home or in the back of a taxi, that was fine. He decided enough was enough however, when after a particularly erotic fantasy at work occurred and he ended up so horny he had to leave 2 hours before his shift was due to finish. Something had to give.

John was no longer felt comfortable touching himself in the lounge where the 'milk incident' had occurred or anywhere besides his bedroom. That was until one morning, while enjoying a cup of tea after relieving his morning wood, Sherlock had deduced what John had spent his morning doing. John swore never to wank in the apartment again. Ever.

Unfortunately for John, when he stopped his daily release the thoughts of Sherlock were amplified. Erotic fantasies of Sherlock plagued him not only during the day but while he slept too. He awoke one night after a vivid dream of Sherlock spread out underneath him, to a sticky mess covering himself. It was that night in the shower while cleaning himself off that a thought came to him. A brilliant thought. If he gets himself off in the shower Sherlock will never know. All evidence to deduce would be washed away. From that day on John attended to himself everyday 'and Sherlock is none the wiser' thought john smugly.

**Hello my lovely readers! Thank you so much for your reviews they gave me motivation to write this. I know its tiny but it continues into the next chapter which will be posted in the next hour or so. Sorry for leaving you waiting unfortunately Year 12 has burden me with piles upon piles of homework x**


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